"

CHAPTER XV

AT THE GREAT GAME

"Well, I thought I'd seen some excitement before," declared Betty Wales,
struggling to settle herself more comfortably on the scant ten square
inches of space allotted her by the surging, swaying mass of girls
behind. "But I was mistaken. Even the rally was nothing to this. Helen,
do you feel as if they'd push you under the railing?"

"A little," laughed Helen, "but I don't suppose they could, do you?"

"I guess not," said Betty hopefully, "but they might break my spine.
They're actually sitting on me, and I haven't room to turn around and
see who's doing it. Oh, but isn't it fun!"

The day of the great basket-ball game had come at last. A bare two hours
more and the freshman team would either be celebrating its victory over
the sophomores, or bravely shouldering its defeat; and the college had
turned out _en masse_ to witness the struggle. The floor of the
gymnasium was cleared, only Miss Andrews, the gym teacher, her assistant
line-keepers and the ushers in white duck, with paper hats of green or
purple, being allowed on the field of battle. On the little stage at one
end of the hall sat the faculty, most of them manifesting their
partisanship by the display of class-colors. The more popular supporters
of the purple had been furnished with violets by their admirers, while
the wearers of the green had American beauty roses--red being the junior
color--tied with great bows of green ribbon. The prize exhibit was
undoubtedly that of the enterprising young head of the chemistry
department, who carried an enormous bunch of vivid green carnations; but
the centre of interest was the president of the college, who of course
displayed impartially the colors of both sides.

He divided interest with a sprightly little lady in a brilliant purple
gown, whose arms were so full of violets and daffodils and purple and
yellow ribbons that she looked like an animated flower bed. She smiled
and nodded at the sophomore gallery from behind their floral tributes;
and the freshmen watched her eagerly and wished she had worn the green.
But of course she wouldn't; she had nothing but sophomore lit., and all
her classes adored her.

In the gallery were the students, seniors and sophomores on one side,
juniors and freshmen on the other, packed in like sardines. The front
row of them sat on the floor, dangling their feet over the edge of the
balcony--they had been warned at the gym classes of the